


i was a rebel with a cause (just didn't know quite what it was)

by dialecstatic



Series: whatever a sun will always sing is you [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dysphoria, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Introspection, Nonbinary Character, Slice of Life, Trans Character, agender!taeyong, me turning stage names into chosen names: im so fucking valid, nonbinary!chenle, nonbinary!haechan, nothing explicit don't worry, soccer mom kun is back at it again, the dreamies are healing, trans boy!jaemin, trans girl!kun, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14477166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialecstatic/pseuds/dialecstatic
Summary: in the middle of an existencial crisis, taeyong finds something worth fighting for.





	i was a rebel with a cause (just didn't know quite what it was)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "hard to love" by one ok rock
> 
> i wanted to have all the dreamies in this verse somehow because they're good kids, and who better to pair them with than taetae.

Taeyong doesn’t like weekends. 

 

This is, mostly, because they hate being left alone with their own thoughts. Weeks are hectic, sure, but that means there’s no time to think about anything else but the stage lights and the shuffling of soles across the floorboards. All that exists during the week is this, hectic rehearsals and planning sessions, lectures that take their attention even just for a few hours, meetings at the café with the group, joyous cacophony filling their ears and brain, stopping the dull ache that seems to have settled at the core of their existence. When they fall into bed at night, they’re too tired to think, and the days rolls over into each other with little space for reflection.

 

Weekends are another animal entirely. They’re a beast that looms over Taeyong whenever they try to find sleep on Friday nights, opening their eyes on Saturday mornings and staring at the ceiling. Nothing changes. They still examine themself in the bathroom mirror, too thin, too bony, too angular, too lanky, too masculine, not masculine enough, weird-looking, eyes too big, presence too loud, uncomfortable, strange, unrecognizable as they stand out from the crowd. Always so many things wrong with them that it makes them want to punch their own reflection, to bloody their knuckles just to feel something other than self-pity.

 

It hasn’t always been like this, but now they can’t remember ever being any other way. Surrounded, they’re okay, and their friends are so bright and beautiful that their light shines through the cracks on Taeyong’s soul, leaving them feeling lighter than before. They’re grateful for the people in their life, how they see them in earnest and still love them, in spite of their flaws.

 

“You’re a whole person, Tae,” Jaehyun had said one night, sitting cross-legged on the steps of the campus cafeteria at an hour when neither of them should have been there. “Everything that makes you who you are is why we love you.” 

 

Taeyong tries, with all their might, to believe him.

 

But weekends pass and every time, without fail, Taeyong finds themself in an empty studio, ignoring their own exhaustion lest they stop moving and let their mind wander. They could call Ten, sure, have some company, but the younger man teaches classes and Taeyong wouldn’t want to ring at an inopportune time. So they just turn the volume up louder, drowning themself in sound, the blurry reflection of their body in the mirror imitating the image they’re trying to pinpoint in their mind.

 

Just a blur, barely leaving a mark.

  
  


That weekend, though, their phone buzzes as they’re walking out the door to get to the studio. Seeing Kun’s name on the screen isn’t a rarity in itself - she has a habit of checking up on all of them at random throughout the week - but it’s the first time she’s contacted Taeyong at that kind of time, and especially with that kind of request.

 

 **[Kun (9:42AM)]** _Hey Tae-tae!_ _Are you free right now? I want to take you somewhere._

 

Taeyong contemplates shoving their phone in their pocket and going on their way, but decides against it. It’s not like them to ignore a friend’s request, and today had been, for the first time in a long while, not bad from the start.

 

 **[You (9:43)]** _Sure. Send me the location, chief :)_

  
  


It can’t hurt to try.

  
  


The place Kun has sent them to is pretty nondescript from the outside, only a tiny flag sticker on the glass door indicating what Taeyong had been suspecting. They’ve known for a while now that Kun volunteers with various associations on the weekend, sometimes enlisting Sicheng and Yuta to help. Taeyong on their side of things preferred the militant organizations Ten had introduced them to, worn out voices pushing for a change that never seemed to come. It was still something. Maybe it could be more. 

 

Kun is already waiting inside when they push the door open, warm smile chipping away at Taeyong’s doubt immediately.

 

“Welcome!” she exclaims, looping their arms together and guiding Taeyong inside. 

 

“So… What’s this place, exactly?” they ask, looking around. There’s a few posters for movie nights and book clubs in the hallway, some informative board about a clothing drive, and a door at the end of it, yellowed glass pane doing very little to contain the noise coming from behind.

 

“This,” Kun says, her hand resting on the handle for a moment. “Is a youth center. I volunteer here every other weekend.”

 

Of course. 

 

“And I thought it would do you some good to meet the kids too.” she continues, squeezing Taeyong’s arm, her eyes boring into their soul in that unnerving way she has. “You haven’t been doing well lately, have you?”

 

Taeyong whips their head around looking for a way out, unwilling at first to unload their problems on anyone but themself. They know better than to believe Kun would ever have any of that. 

 

“I won’t force you to open up, Tae. If you need your time then so be it.” her voice is soft and yet there’s that firmness still, that way she has of making people trust her. “But give this a try, ok?”

 

There’s no harm in trying.

 

So Taeyong just nods, giving Kun a small smile that she returns in kind as she opens the door, throwing a greeting out into the air.

 

She’s met by a round of happy, explosive cheers, a group of kids no older than late teens swarming to her almost instantly. Kun greets each of them in turn, ruffling hair and pinching cheeks like she raised them - and maybe she has, Taeyong thinks. She can be a mystery and a half when she wants to.

 

“Taeyong,” Kun says gleefully as she extends an arm towards the group. “These are my kids.”

 

Typical, of course.

 

“Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, Do-” 

 

“Ah! Kunnie, actually, it’s Haechan now.” the kid in question quips, brushing neon orange hair out of their face.

 

Kun smiles and nods, taking their hand in hers.

 

“Haechan! You finally found it. It suits you.”

 

Haechan beams at her, scrunching up their nose in delight. “I know!”

 

“So, Haechan,” Kun keeps going, unable to disguise the delight in her voice, “Chenle, and Jisung. This is the group that I take care of every other weekend.”

 

Taeyong studies all of them intently, committing their names to memory. They’re so young still, eyes full of hope and light and something Taeyong thinks they misplaced a long time ago, between sleepless nights and restless mornings. Maybe they can’t ever fix their own broken parts, but throwing them out and replacing them feels like an option now, weaving a new picture and a new world for the kids to step into. 

 

“This is my friend from college, Taeyong.” Kun’s voice comes out of nowhere, snapping Taeyong out of their thoughts and back in the room with everyone. “Be gentle, okay?”

 

Taeyong isn’t sure who Kun is talking to, but they know that in this moment they have no intention of being anything else. They notice Jisung staring at them, and decide this is where the new chapter starts.

 

Jisung, as it turns out, is an amazing dancer. His tall and lanky frame belies his sharp, self-assured movements, and Taeyong finds themself being goaded into dancing too, working up a sweat as they keep up with him, putting on a show in a empty corner of the room while Kun arranges chairs in a circle. Chenle is hollering loudly, fingers drumming to the beat on the floor, and Taeyong thinks they see Renjun filming, but they pay it no mind, their feet moving almost of their own accord to follow Jisung’s. Taeyong feels light, for the first time in a while on a weekend, Saturday sun filtering through the windows and illuminating the way.

 

Kun clasps her hands together over the music, calling for them to gather around in the circle.

 

“What’s that for?” Taeyong asks Jaemin as they wipe their brow, rummaging through their bag for some water.

 

“The affirmation!” the boy replies, linking his arm with Jeno’s as he passes by. “It’s our tradition.”

 

Tradition has always scared Taeyong. For them, tradition has always meant rejection, fear and pain, hiding behind a cracked mask, trying so desperately to fit into some definition someone had chosen for them, and realizing it only twisted the knife in deeper. But just as they gave this a try, they’ll sit down, let Kun lead the way.

 

“So, who wants to start us off?” Kun inquires to the group, her eyes meeting Taeyong’s for a brief moment before her attention is drawn to Haechan, waving their hand in the air. “Go for it.”

 

Haechan clears their throat, fiddling with a stray thread on their sweater.

 

“So, I finally found a name. And it feels great, y’know? Like something clicked in place, like… Like how happy we got when we completed our first puzzles as kids.”

 

Chenle nods where they’re seating two chairs over, bringing their knees up to their chest, a precarious balance.

 

“I’m happy. This week I… I’m really happy.” Haechan states, voice steady even as they throw their head back to try and stop the tears Taeyong knows are pricking at the corners of their eyes. 

 

They remember how that felt, almost clear as day now. It’s a memory they’ll never let go of.

 

Kun leans over to hold her hand out to Haechan and they take it, offering their own to Renjun sitting next to them. Little by little, everyone is holding hands, and a closed circle has never looked more like an open road to Taeyong as Jisung links his fingers with theirs.

 

“We’re all here because we’ve got something within us that the world doesn’t want to see. That it doesn’t want us to show, and be proud of.” Kun announces, looking around at the youthful faces and one that she knows can be lit up again. “We’re here because we’re not going to let that happen. It takes time, and effort, to find yourself. To find the courage to be yourself. And each day that I come here I am a little prouder of each of you.” 

 

Taeyong holds Jisung’s hand a little tighter.

 

“We have our whole lives ahead of us to become the best people we can be.”

 

For the next half hour, Kun goes around the circle, asking everyone how the week went, how they’re feeling, laying the scene for them to become lead actors of their own lives. The conversation flows easily, and before they know it, Taeyong is talking about their plans for their performance exam, how they’re having a hard time pinpointing the theme. The kids are all pensive for a moment before Jisung taps Taeyong on the shoulder, tells them that they can try to figure it out next time.

 

Next time sounds nice, right now.

  
  


___

The next weekend, like Jisung seemingly predicted, Taeyong finds themself going back without even realizing. The hallway feels familiar already, and there’s a new poster for Chenle’s upcoming piano recital, Taeyong snapping a picture and making a mental note to write it down somewhere as they walk by. Kun isn’t here today, so Taeyong sends her the picture and gets a full row of heart eyes emojis in return, snorting as they drop their phone in their bag and walk through the door.

 

At some point, between a heated game of “urban dodgeball” as Jeno calls it (Taeyong is pretty sure they lost a few eyebrow hairs on a close throw from Haechan) and the affirmation with that day's volunteer, they walk into the bathroom to find Jaemin stuck inside his shirt. They raise an eyebrow at the sight, their blood running cold when they notice tape running along the boy’s back. 

 

“What the fuck.” Taeyong mutters under their breath, taking a few maladjusted steps towards Jaemin. 

 

Jaemin whines from where his head is tucked inside the fabric. He’s trying to wiggle out of it so he can see who’s in here with him, and Taeyong notices that the tip of his ears are flushed red, eyes downcast as he pulls the shirt back over himself. 

 

“Need help?” they say, leaning against the sinks. They need to talk to this kid, somehow, about the bandages around his chest.

 

Back in the beginnings of their friend group, Taeyong remembers Ten getting uncharacteristically angry at them after finding out they’d been binding with bandages, the dancer close to tears as he explained the long-term damage they could cause. They remember how Ten had tried to regain his calm, shakily holding Taeyong in his arms as he stroked their back, pleading with them to think about their health. Taeyong, self-immolating as they may have been even then, had never done it again, opting for other tricks from Ten and Jungwoo ever since.

 

Taeyong knows how severe dysphoria can get, driving people to acts of desperation, to discarding health in favor of just a few hours of feeling somehow at home in your own skin. They know it better than they care to, wish to, remember it everytime they see the ghosts of scars on their thighs, the bruises on their chest, hidden and yet so prominent. They know, but it doesn’t mean they have to let kids fall into the same currents.

 

“Em… Your hair is cool.” Jaemin mumbles, obviously trying to avoid the conversation he knows is looming over his head.

 

“Thanks.” 

 

Taeyong fiddles with a stray strand of bright red hair, freshly dyed, trying to keep their composure, to not make Jaemin more embarrassed than he already is. 

 

“These are bad for you, you know.” they gesture at Jaemin’s chest, eyes stranded on the boy’s face, the way his mouth turns into a sad little smile.

 

“I don’t really have any other options…”

 

The resignation is apparent in his voice as a hand fists the front of his shirt, and Taeyong wants to close the gap between them, to hold Jaemin and tell him everything is going to be ok, that they’ll all get to be free in the end, that there’s a life waiting for him behind the apparent confines of his own body. 

 

“You do.”

 

We all do.

 

Taeyong scrapes their nails against the counter, chewing their bottom lip as they think. Jaemin is staring at the mirror, and the sadness in his eyes is unbearable as it reflects Taeyong’s own, as Taeyong thinks he’s too young, too innocent to be hurting like this. They shuffle across the floor towards him, a hand coming up to rest on his shoulder, urging Jaemin to look at them.

 

“This is what this place is for, right? Finding solutions. Overcoming.” Taeyong’s not sure what they’re saying, but they know they have to keep talking to get Jaemin to listen. “I know a few guys who can help. Good guys. Maybe I can get them to come with me next week. We’ll find you something better than this. I… I promise.” 

 

It’s a promise they want to believe they can keep.

 

“For now please just… Take these off. Throw them away. Please. It’s not worth it, trust me.” 

 

Jaemin shakes his head to chase his tears away, and suddenly he’s hugging Taeyong, who doesn’t know what to do with themself. They don’t feel like a good role model, certainly not an example to follow, and yet Jaemin seems to entrust a little bit of himself to them and it makes them feel like they’re on top of the world. Maybe for Jaemin, for all those kids, they can try again.

 

“Thank you.” the boy sniffles, straightening up and wiping his eyes. He lets out a breath, steels his expression into something like confidence.

 

“Jaemin… Don’t fake it ‘til you make it.” Taeyong laughs despite themselves. “It’s ok to not know sometimes. Life takes you places you wouldn’t expect.”

  
___

When the afternoon comes to a close and it’s time to say goodbye, Jaemin taps Taeyong on the shoulder, holding a small plastic bag in his other hand. 

 

“I’m going home now, so I don’t need these anymore. Or ever.” 

 

Taeyong can’t help the creeping feeling of fondness that takes over them, or the smile that spreads across their face. 

 

“You’ll be coming back, right?” 

 

In that moment, Taeyong lets themself be spontaneous for the first time maybe forever, wrapping an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders and walking them both towards the door.

 

“Yeah. I… I definitely will.”

**Author's Note:**

> affirmation circle sitting order : kun - haechan - renjun - chenle - taeyong - jisung - jeno - jaemin and back to kun
> 
> thank you, as always, to bru, dylan & ricki for their support~
> 
> and thank you to everyone who has clicked, left kudos & commented on the other fics in this verse. y'all are the real mvps ❤
> 
> catch me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/diaminghao) !


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